


Prompts for CanaryFire

by FireSoul



Series: FireSoul's Tumblr Prompts! [15]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2020-08-13 15:30:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20176588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireSoul/pseuds/FireSoul
Summary: Mick and Laurel are a ship we never got to see, but through the power of fic my god have I come to wish we had! Here are some prompts starring them!





	1. First Steps

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to rtheinkqueen who prompted me with "Wait... Is she walking?" with CanaryFire! I love this ship SO much!

Mick never saw his life panning out like this.

Never, not once in his wildest dreams. He always thought he would go out in a blaze of glory taking on too many cops in a bank heist by the time he was thirty. At the very least he thought he might waste away in prison. He never thought he would turn his life around, never thought he would get the chance to play the hero, never mind take it. He never thought they would ever be able to change what happened to Sara’s sister, and he never had any reason to believe she would be so much like the rest of them. Lost, and looking for a place to belong.

He never could’ve dreamed that place would end up being with him.

But, through some strange fault in fate, it did.

She started seeking him out whenever she and Sara fought, they’d been apart a long time for her but even longer for Sara. Things had changed, and she said it was in the way he and Sara worked, she thought he could help her adjust. Somehow, in that, they became each other’s confidants and before he knew it, for the first time in four years, he was sober more often than he wasn’t.

Being her friend was nice. They worked together in a way he never has with anyone. She had his back on and off the field, which he can say for most of the rest of the team, but it was different with her. She didn’t just leave him to his demons whenever he had a bad day, she’d grab his hand and drag him down to the training room if she had to. The others, he knew, were always open to talk, but it was easier with her. The shit she went through with Sara when they were younger, she got things the others just didn’t. She knew him.

The first time they slept together, he thought it was a mistake. He’d never cared before about messing up a friendship, but he’d never had a friendship like the one he had with Laurel. Once it was done, though, he couldn’t believe he’d done it. He was nobody’s first choice, he’d long accepted that, and when she inevitably met someone else he would rather it be easier to not lose her presence in his life by not having to tell her someone else he’d slept with her, and have them find out it meant something to him.

Turns out that was something else he never would’ve thought; he is her someone.

For a while they had a friends-with-benefits thing going, and it was great. It was less than a month before the whole team knew, but that was typical when you lived on a ship with eight other people. Even so, he got a little confused when she started leaning close during briefings, kissing him in the galley in the morning, all that stuff. He wasn’t complaining, hell no way was he complaining, but after putting it off for a while he brought it up with her, and then that was it. They were together.

He kept waiting for it to end, for her to wise up and leave him, but the days turned to weeks, and weeks to months. He never thought he could have the happiness that they had on that ship. She told him she loved him and he believed her, couldn’t understand why, but believed it. His life was good; something he never thought he could have.

Then, when they were just shy of a year together, something else he never could’ve dreamed happened.

She handed him a positive pregnancy test.

“Well,” he’d said to her, after he’d gotten over the initial shock of the news. “Guess you’re stuck with me now, Birdie.”

She’d kissed him and told him she wouldn’t have it any other way.

It’s been about a year and a half since that day. The two of them decided to settle down in the present, something else Mick never once imagined himself doing, and got a little place in Central City. Their daughter, Grace Quinn Rory, is currently a month out from her first birthday and straddled comfortably on Laurel’s hip, who is coming into the living room and frowning at her phone.

“My mom can’t sit tonight, something came up at work.”

Ah, well that’s disappointing.

Laurel, obviously disappointed as well, huffs and plops next to him on the couch, swinging Grace around and into her lap.

“Well that sucks.” She mumbles, and while he does agree with her he can’t quite bring himself to share her sentiment, not when Grace is smiling and gurgling happily since being turned around.

He hums, his fingers playing with the ends of his daughter’s curly hair.

“We could send her to Scarlett.” He suggests, but Laurel only sighs even deeper.

“Iris is like, a day away from her due date.” She reminds him, “She can’t be worried about three babies right now, and Barry.”

Right, and that takes out his next two suggestions: Caitlin and Ramon. The whole S.T.A.R. Labs crew has been pulling crazy hours lately, trying to keep Barry home as much as possible.

“I’m sure your mom can sit tomorrow.” He suggests, his brow furrowing a little with worry when Laurel slumps even deeper into the cushions.

“Probably.” She admits, “I was just really looking forward to tonight.” She lolls her head, looking at him with those big doe eyes of hers.

“We haven’t been out in so long.” She groans, and he chuckles, cause it hasn’t been _that _long.

“And…” she adds, a quick glance down at Grace to be sure she is sufficiently distracted with something. “I had some _fun _planned for tonight.”

Well, now he’s bummed out.

“We can still do that.” He says quickly, to which she gives him a knowing look that calls bull.

“With the way she’s been sleeping lately?” She asks, and ok, that’s true. Grace had a cold last week, couldn’t sleep at all cause she couldn’t breathe, and even though she’s getting over it she still hasn’t fallen back into a solid sleep pattern.

Right now, though, you would never know that. She’s got as much energy as she always done, like she isn’t only sleeping a few broken hours a night. Nope, she’s thrown herself over Laurel’s arm and is gunning for the remote like she’ll know how to use it once she gets it in her hands.

That gives him an idea.

“Who says we gotta wait for tonight?”

Laurel looks… surprised. Interested, but definitely unsure. So, he stands up and nods at the remote that has Grace so captivated.

“Kid gets into her shows.” He reminds her, “Put some Bubble Guppies on and lets go.”

At first Laurel only gapes at him, but he knows that look she gets when she’s thinking on something, and boy does she have it now.

Their room isn’t more than halfway down the hall, and even with Grace an avid crawler and getting the hang of standing up they’ve already moved most things she could get into out of her potential reach.

“Ok,” she agrees, and then she scoops up the remote, plops Grace on the floor with a sloppy kiss to her head, and within five minutes they’re in their bedroom with the door closed over.

“So, wat’cha got planned?” He asks as she all but shoves him onto the bed.

She’s giggling the whole way, even as he sits back on the mattress and allows her to climb up into his lap.

“Well…” She drawls out, one hand firm on his chest and her breath warm and close enough to tickle at his ear. “I might have to make a few adjustments, Bubble Guppies is only a half hour…”

Never, _never_, should the words “Bubble Guppies” be said in THAT tone of voice. For as much as he’s always enjoyed the notion of a ticking clock, he never thought a kid’s show would be the timer, and he’s not sure how he feels about being this turned on by it.

Then again, when Laurel is looking at him like she is and her voice has become a purr, he’s pretty sure she could say anything and it would turn him on.

“But…” She goes on, “There are definitely some things I know we-”

The sound of a loud _thud _from the hall cuts her off. They both listen, most thoughts of their fun moving to the sidelines of their minds. There’s the telltale creek of the floorboards, and another thud. Actually, the thuds are more like slaps. But they sound like they’re against the wall, not the floor, and it’s moving slower than their little speed-demon of a crawler normally-

“Wait…” Laurel drawls, disbelief taken over her voice and her eyes off him and on the door. “Is she walking?”

They’re up within an instant.

She jumps off him, he wastes no time in following her up, and just as he comes up behind her in the doorway she gasps and no sooner has the sound left her mouth that he’s gotten a look into the hall.

He swears he stops breathing for a second.

Grace is standing there, hands against the wall and little head turned towards them, looking at them with those big green eyes of hers like she has no idea why they’re staring back.

“Gracie?” Laurel nearly squeals, stepping into the hall and thus letting him out, squatting down to Gracie’s level. “Did you walk over here all by yourself?!”

A huge grin lights up Gracie’s face, accompanied by a giggle that Laurel exaggeratingly mimics as she holds out her arms.

“Come here!” She calls, “Come to mommy! Come walk to mommy!”

Mick’s honestly not sure if she’s really going to do it. For all they know, she crawled over her then stood herself up. Grace doesn’t look too sure either, but Laurel keeps on calling her, and it isn’t long before she, with that happy smile still on her face, is pushing off the wall and taking slow, stocking steps towards them.

Laurel gasps again, and keeps cheering her on. She almost doesn’t make it, but yet she does, and collapses into her mother’s waiting arms soon as she reaches them.

“Ohh! Good job!” Laurel praises, standing up with Grace cuddled happily against her chest. “You did such a good job!”

He snickers, his smile is probably bright as Grace’s right now, and he reaches his hand over to tickle her, getting her to laugh.

“You’re a big girl munchkin.” He praises her, tickling her some more and getting more laughs until she flops herself into his grasp.

He holds her under her bottom with one arm, and keeps tickling her side with his other hand. She keeps giggling, him and Laurel too, and he presses a kiss to the side of her head.

Mick never once imagined his life would pan out like this, but not in a million years would he ever want it any other way.

“Keep it up,” he tells Grace, “And I’m gonna tell Scarlett you’re coming for him.”


	2. What Don't I Remember?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous prompted me "Weddings are stupid" for any ship I would like, and my god I should not be allowed that kind of freedom!

“Weddings are stupid.” Mick grumbles and Sara rolls her eyes as she straightens out his tie.

“Too bad.” She mutters, still mostly focused on getting him to look like he at least _tried _to clean up for this. “We were invited so we’re going.”

“Last wedding we went to was crashed by Nazis.” She stops and sighs, her palms going flat against his chest as he looks down at her with a forewarning expression. “I hate Nazis.”

She sighs, and picks up her work, finishing off his tie with a gentle tug.

“I’m sure that won’t happen this time.”

He glances down at her again with a growl. She knows it’s a challenge and she knows he’s right; she can’t promise that. All she can do is pat her hands lightly against his chest and give him the most humoring expression she can manage.

“Ray and Nora are family, and not to mention you’re a groomsman. So suck it up and make sure your gun is charged, because Nazi invaders or not you are going to this wedding.”

* * *

She’s right, not that Mick thought she wouldn’t be because come on, what really were the chances a second wedding would be interrupted by Nazis from another earth?

Probably higher than they should be.

Whatever, point is it doesn’t happen. Ceremony goes off almost without a hitch, and the hitch they do face is Haircut misses the glass on his first try stomping on it. The reception is nice, and at least Haircut sprung for an open bar so… Eh, maybe this isn’t the worst wedding he’s ever been to.

A woman comes up next to him right then, wearing a sparkly grey cocktail dress that hugs her in all the right ways with matching heels. He doesn’t mean to stare, it’s just he knows he’s seen her before somewhere… Ah well, he probably met her mixed in at one of the stupid crossovers.

He’s still trying to figure it out when she flags down the bartender and orders herself a coke.

That’s when it clicks.

He hasn’t seen her at crossovers; he’s seen her in pictures. Sara’s pictures, to be specific.

“Laurel?” He asks before he can stop himself, and she glances at him with surprise, which is more than fair, but his stupid ass doesn’t quit staring.

“Yeah?” She asks, and just then the bartender brings over her coke, so she starts stirring the straw around that.

He sips his beer, trying to regain some sense of casual.

“Thought you were dead.”

She doesn’t look nearly as surprised by that as he might’ve expected, a little bit but not as much as he would’ve thought.

“So Sara said.” She informs him, “She thought it was because she’s a paragon, whatever that is, but then Ray and Nora almost didn’t invite me because they thought I was dead so now we think it’s something to do with your team being in the temporal zone. Apparently in an old timeline I was dead.”

He nods, yep, that’s the timeline he remembers.

He’s expecting her to leave him be then, but instead she stays put. He doesn’t think anything of it, even with her staring at him for a solid few minutes.

“So… You don’t remember seeing me at all in the last five years?”

“I don’t remember seeing you at all, ever.”

She looks… Disappointed, almost, and a part of him wonders why but hey, can’t be easy suddenly finding out your sister and all her friends remember the past five years without you in them.

Besides, she shakes the look off soon enough and grins at him.

“Well then,” She says, “You can ask Dig if you don’t believe me, but I think I should tell you that you owe me a dance.”

He holds his beer in his mouth for a minute while he studies her, trying to decide if she’s bluffing or not. In the end, all he really decides is that he doesn’t actually care. He swallows what’s in his mouth then drains the rest of his bottle.

“I don’t dance.”

She smirks, and takes half a step closer.

“Which is why you owe me.”

He hums, then pushes his bottle away from him and holds out his hand for her to take; even though all she does is gawk at it.

“I’ll take your word on that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to head over to Tumblr and prompt me! @firesoulstuff.


End file.
